A year ago, I wrote here about my following in Rip van Winkle‘s footsteps, hiking to the summits in search of the ghosts with the keg of purple magic liquor.  This post stays at river level, where sights appear like a 50′ Issuma hustling along with only slightly-shorter  Rosemary Ruth on the hip.   By the way, notice Issuma’s homeport Whitehorse:  “issuma” is the Inuktitut word for knowledge, idea, wisdom or mind.

Before the river was called “hudson” it was called “mohican knee took,” if I might spell it out that way.  It’s still a place of magic, visual charm here as Cynthia Pioneer heads north past Rondout Light.

Hudson River or not, Allyson Ann is a genuine Beals Island lobster boat, a charming apparition that can sweeten anyone’s day or night.

Atlantic Coast pushes building material south, material quarried from holes obscured in the distance midlevels by suspicious looking clouds.

Saugerties Light lies below the high peaks, a B & B where you can reserve a room if you dare;  whatever would it be like to sleep straight through here for 20 years.

GDM 264 is a specialty you’ll not often see . . . a cement suction barge.

The river banks this time of year possess themselves and you with a few days of natural alchemy, which

draws you in with wondrous ruins.  More on the gift of ruins soon.

For a short intro to Hudson Valley legends and place-name explanations, click here.

But if you can, get out and dance to the fall splendor before its music ceases for a year.

All fotos by Will Van Dorp, who has abstained from from Rip’s purple magic liquor . . . and had an extra cup of coffee instead.

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